


The Big O (and Other Misfortunes)

by sweet_sue_sparrow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_sue_sparrow/pseuds/sweet_sue_sparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel knew, he told himself anyway, that it wasn’t him they hated, but his body.  He had committed a crime, and though it wasn’t intentional it was egregious.  He was impurity incarnate.  A body built for the kind of love that the Bible, and therefore the law, strictly forbade.  A body that gave the phrase ‘a man shall not lie with another man as if with his wife’ a whole new, and unsettling meaning.  He was a product of flawed genes, carrying on the legacy of biological warfare long over.  It was not his fault, but it was still his sin.  ‘Hate the sin, not the sinner’ the Headmaster always said.  That is what they were doing.  Hating the sin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

            Castiel lay on his back in the bed that had been his.  He was the only one in the dormitory.  It was midday everyone was in classes.  It was a large room, with high ceilings and long windows with white, utilitarian curtains.  Weak sunlight filtered in though the glass, becoming hard long before it fell across his face.  The whole place felt old or repurposed. _New-old_ was the phrase, he thought.

            The bed that had been his was not like a bed ought to be. When one is in bed, one shouldn’t feel as if one is _on_ something. A bed was supposed to be softness, weightlessness.  _Like a womb_.  But here, on the bed that had been his, there was no escaping sensation. The mattress made itself known against his back.

            It was odd, he didn’t feel as if he was leaving.  Perhaps because there had been no formal conclusion to his time there.  There had been no graduation, as he understood it from the films.  There had been no caps or gowns, no cheering.  There had been no celebration because it was not wise to encourage the others.  His situation was not normal.  There were only three.

            “Cas! Hey!  Come on, do you wanna get left behind?”  It was Gabriel, with Samandriel in tow. 

            Castiel sat up straight.  The boy was leaning in the high doorway, short already, but dwarfed by situation and perspective. He wasn’t holding any bags. This wasn’t what _departure_ looked like.  But that was what it was. 

            “I’m coming!”  Castiel said, but the words were moot before they left his lips.  It only took a few long strides to reach the door.

            As the three boys loaded onto an unmarked white van, it dawned on Castiel that this, all of this, was new.  He had never been in a van before.  He had never been beyond the high, chain-link fence of the school, topped with barbed wire. People didn’t leave the school. There was no written law that said this. It was implicit. The school was a privilege. He had heard stories, horror stories of boys like him, like all of them, being slaughtered en mass. There were tests now, that detected the gene-the mutation in utero.  They could be terminated early, painlessly.  In other places it was not so clean, there was no telling who was what until puberty and by then it had to be done more cruelly. With guns, or in other places, with needles.  The world outside was cruel and dystopic, at least for people like him.  And so what felt like a prison, his teachers explained, was in fact a great privilege.  So no one left. Until now.

            He came back to the present slowly.  Adjusting his black plastic collar that was uncomfortable but necessary. More necessary than ever. Next to him, Samandriel looked scared. He watched the scenery outside as if it might eat him.  Perhaps it could.

            Outside the walls of the school, which seemed much less intimidating from the outside, were fields.  Some just grass but others grew what looked like corn, or potatoes or grain.  Something mass-produced and subsidized.  It was late summer, soon this all would be harvested, the fields bare.  It didn’t look like a dystopia.  He didn’t know what a dystopia should look like, but it wasn’t this.  This was wholesome, all American, classic even. Not that he knew what that meant.

            When the scenery became homogenous enough to bore him, he looked around the van. The other two boys in the back with him were his friends.  They were all dressed the same, in white collared shirts and black trousers and black, plastic collars.  They looked the same except for their faces-the only things that truly belonged to them.

            There was a screen between the boys and the two men in the front. One driver, one guard. Why did they need to be guarded? He’d caught a glimpse of a handgun, strapped to the man’s belt in a leather holster.  He knew what it was from the television only. News and cop shows. Why did they need guns? What were they afraid of? That the three would escape? This was supposed to be escape. Perhaps they were being protected from something.  But what, or who?

            No one said anything.  Even Gabriel, usually garrulous, sat in silence, watching the fields go by. There was an air of danger in he air, of fear.  They stopped once so that the boys could relieve themselves.  The guard, dressed in some private security uniform, opened the sliding door with a terse “go ahead”.  They did.

            After some six or seven hours, according to the position of the sun, the fields gave way to suburbs and then to city.  Castiel had never been outside the school; he’d never seen a city. From what he had learned from his teachers and the news, the world beyond the school was not a good place. There was depravity everywhere, though the Government (the capital G was implied) fought hard to end it. Wars were being waged, rebellions and resistances, crushed. Sometimes, on the news, there was footage of this. Of soldiers marching though streets, of dirty men with their hands behind their backs, being dragged out of buildings. Indeed, the outside world seemed like a very frightening place.  He almost hadn’t wanted to go.  Yet from the window of the van, through which he could see but not be seen, it all looked so calm. There were cars in driveways, people, walking on the sidewalks, laughing, talking, going about what must have been business as usual.  This did not look like a world in crisis.

            The sun was going down when they pulled through the gates of the college. The van stopped beside a wooden sign that read _Admissions_ in neat, blocky font. All around them were brick buildings, a few cement.  They were arranged around a campus, verdant with lush grass, studded with trees, just touched with gold and catching the dying sunlight in their patchy canopies.

            No. There was no time for describing. The door was open.

            “Come on.”  The guard said. “We’re here.”

            Gabriel got out first, then Castiel.  Samandriel, the youngest of the three if only by a few months, caught Castiel’s eyes as if looking for comfort.  He got none. They filed behind the guard, into the admissions office.  It was a neat office, wood floored, walls painted a soft orange like pumpkin pie. Homey, Castiel thought, whatever that could mean to someone without a home. 

            “Ah!” A pink faced woman behind the front desk got up hastily.  She looked friendly, matronly in her blue blouse.  “You must be the O-the boys from the school!”

            “Yes,” the guard spoke for them, “Gabriel, Castiel, and Samandriel. No last names.”

            The woman nodded.  “Everything’s in order, welcome, boys!  We’re happy to have you!” She looked past the three, speaking with all the sincerity of a Hallmark greeting card.  “Emma will show you your housing.” 

            Behind her, almost out of nowhere, a freckled woman of perhaps twenty appeared. Her smile was more genuine. As she led them out back into the quad, Castiel distinctly heard the older woman say to the guard, “funny, they almost look like-they almost look _normal_.”

            Then the door closed and they were gone.

            ‘This is where you’ll be staying.”  The woman, Emma, said, opened the door to a newer dorm, one built in the 1960’s whenn everything had to be cement and square.  It was small, no bigger than a family house, and a little shabby. “You all get singles, lucky you! Most freshmen never get singles.”

            “Sweet!” Said Gabriel, looking around with an air of wonder and impish delight.

            “Yeah! And there’re your kitchen facilities here.  The board well they… they think you shouldn’t eat in the cafeteria just yet.  Give people time to get used to you in classes and stuff, you know?”  They all nodded. They all knew.

            Castiel knew, he told himself anyway, that it wasn’t him they hated, but his body. He had committed a crime, and though it wasn’t intentional it was egregious.  He was impurity incarnate.  A body built for the kind of love that the Bible, and therefore the law, strictly forbade. A body that gave the phrase _‘a man shall not lie with another man as if with his wife’_ a whole new, and unsettling meaning. He was a product of flawed genes, carrying on the legacy of biological warfare long over.  It was not his fault, but it was still his sin. ‘ _Hate the sin, not the sinner’_ the Headmaster always said. That is what they were doing. Hating the sin.

            “Sorry, can I ask you something?”  Emma asked, stopping, facing them in the hallway. 

            They nodded, almost in sync.

            “I mean, like, no offense, I was just wondering, but why do Om-you guys wear the collar?  Is it true, what they said in Purity-ed, that you all would, you know, go all animal-crazy without them?”

            “Animal-crazy?” Gabriel asked, a note of the usual humor back in his voice.

            “You know,” she mimed something, thrusting her hips a little, making her long skirt swish about her.

            “Something like that.”  Castiel muttered, swallowing his pride as best he could.

            “Oh,” said Emma.  Then she went on with the tour.


	2. Chapter 2

            Now, Dean was no master of vocabulary, but he was pretty sure ‘mandatory recreation’ was an oxymoron.  Nothing required was ever fun and nothing fun was ever required.  Especially in this country.  That morning the radio announced that henceforth condoms would be illegal, as they encouraged the sin of wanton sex.  If you didn’t want to make a baby you shouldn’t be having sex; that was the theory.  Benny’s theory was that he could make a fortune selling their condoms on the black market.

            “We don’t need them.  I’m clean, you’re clean, none of us are O.  It ain’t like we’re gonna have a kid.”

            “I don’t know man, I just feel better about it using a condom.”

            Benny scoffed.  He would have argued more but the time for mandatory recreation was upon them. This time it took the form of a school-wide church service in the campus chapel.

            Dean, Benny, and the rest of the vocational school students were ushered in behind the main student body.  The large stone room was filled with the sound of two thousand voices chattering, laughing, discussing, until the Minister silenced them with a look.

            “Children,” he said, observing the upturned faces of all the students, “it’s so good to see you all here today in the house of the Lord.”

            The Minister, Zachariah, was a stout man with bulging, wide-set eyes and thinning grey hair.  Under different circumstances Dean would have laughed at such a man.  Dressed in an expensive black suit, smiling like a frog that has just caught sight of a very large, slow, fly within tongue’s reach. He looked ridiculous. But circumstances were what they were and the Minister was more than a simple church leader. He was the eyes and ears of the Government within the college.  He was the director of purity and piety and he must be respected or the consequences would be dire.

            “I’ve been informed that among this year’s incoming freshmen, we have three very special students.”  There was a great stir in the chapel which the Minister admonished with a nod. “You know who you are. Please, stand up.”

            In the middle of the crowd, three boys stood up together. At the Minister’s command, they walked, clumped like scared children, up to the pulpit.  Dean, like everyone else stared at them wantonly, looking for what was wrong with them. One was short and stocky, a bemused smile turning up his mouth. One was petite, blond, freckled, young-looking with wide eyes. And the last, the last was tall, with dark hair and a soft, frowning, mouth.  He nicknamed them the Short One, the Twink, and Tall Dark and Handsome.

            “ _O’s_ ” Benny mouthed at Dean, nodding toward the black plastic collars around each of their necks.

            “As you can see,” the Minister was saying, “these boys are…genetically disadvantaged. But I trust that they will overcome the curse of their genes and abstain from the sins their bodies were built for. Won’t you, boys.”

            Dean watched Tall Dark and Handsome especially as he gave a short, curt nod. There was no assent in that nod, no surrender. 

            “We don’t have anything against other kinds at this school, but we must uphold the law of the land and the law of the Good Book.  You boys know that, don’t you?”

            Another stiff nod. 

            Dean didn’t know much about the Black-Collars.  It was one of those things you didn’t discuss.  Benny said they were all a bunch of sluts. Didn’t care about anything but getting a cock in them.  It certainly seemed true. The only time you ever saw those plastic collars was in sketchy clubs and down alleyways. Guys who looked like they hadn’t eaten in days, with hollow cheeks and deep, dark shadows under their eyes. Hungry eyes, wolf-like eyes.

            But these were just kids, freshmen, no older than Dean’s little brother Sam. Surely they couldn’t be like that.

            The Minister seemed done with them.  “I’m sorry boys but would you mind going to the back of the room? We wouldn’t want the other students to be…distracted.” 

            The three filed to the back of the room.  Dean’s eyes followed Tall Dark and Handsome as he walked stiffly down the isle. As he passed Dean he gave him a strange look.  There was almost a disgust, or distrust.  Maybe it was fear. Then he was gone.

            “What the fuck, Dean?”  Benny whispered.

            “What?”

            “Were you _looking_ at him?”

            “No!” Dean denied vehemently.

            “I wonder how much he charges an hour-“

            “Stop!” Dean nudged him in the ribs, “dude, he’s just a kid.”

            Benny rolled his eyes but gave it up.  Dean gave up too.  He hadn’t been checking the kid out, he wouldn’t.  He had Benny.

            The rest of the service was uneventful.  The Minister gave a sermon on temptation.  He always gave a sermon on temptation.  Satan himself couldn’t be as dangerous as college if he was giving out sins like free candy.  Or so they said. The first time he had had to sit though one of these was right after the first time he and Benny had hooked up. It had felt as if the Minister was talking directly to him.  These days he was more jaded.

            After the sermon the Minister read out the new Ordinances. Condoms were henceforth forbidden. Lingerie was henceforth forbidden. For the safety of the people, public protests would be treated more seriously.   Leaders would be charged with unpatriotic speech, which was punishable by death.  Participants would be ticketed.

            “Shit, man,” Dean hissed as they left the chapel, “when did this place turn into a fucking dictatorship?”

            “Don’t fuss about it.”  Benny drawled. “As long as we’re careful, this ain’t important.  We don’t need condoms or lacy panties or nothing to have fun!  And we’re not dumb enough to protest shit.  Who cares if it’s illegal?”

            “I guess you’re right.”  Dean shrugged. He saw the three Black-Collars clumped by the door, talking in hushed voices.  Tall Dark and Handsome looked angry, gesturing sharply. The Twink seemed to be trying to calm him. 

            “It’s alright.  We’re lucky to be here, we’re lucky!  Don’t make a scene!”

            “I’m not making a scene!”  Tall Dark and Handsome insisted.  “But Alfie, you have to see this is wrong!”

            “It’s better than the School!”  The Twink, Alfie, shot back earnestly.  “It’s better than any of the others got!”

            “Dean, you wanna miss class?  Come on!” Benny was pulling him by the arm.

            “Yeah yeah.”  Dean mumbled as Benny pulled him away from the clump of Black-Collars.

            He didn’t see any of them in his classes.  For the most part the vocational school was separate from the main college. But even in the integrated classes he didn’t see even one of them.  Benny was colder to him than usual that day.  Somehow he found he didn’t mind so much.  They were always distant outside of the bedroom. 

            He stayed in a sort of sullen trance all day.  It wasn’t until the sun sank to meet his mood that anything happened to raise him from his stupor.

            He was reading while walking down to the corner pharmacy. His vaccines had nearly expired, he had figured it would be better to get them done now rather than wait and get a ticket later.  He hadn’t expected to meet anyone on his way, not on this street.

            “Excuse me?”

            Dean nearly tripped over his own surprise.  Tall Dark and Handsome was standing right in front of him, clutching the strap of his backpack in one hand and a crumpled campus map in the other.

            “Uh,” Dean struggled, “yeah?  What?”

            Perhaps he had spoken too harshly.  The Black-Collar’s frown deepened.  “Sorry.  Do you know how to get to the pharmacy?  I- they only gave me a map of the school.  Nothing else.”

            “Oh,” Dean said, “yeah, I know the way.  I’m _on_ the way actually.”

            “Could I walk with you?”

            Dean was surprised by how friendly the boy seemed.  From what he had heard, his kind were a quiet, sulky sort. “Yeah, sure.”

            Tall Dark and Handsome fell into step beside him.

            “So,” Dean said, meaning it to go nowhere in particular.

            “So.” Tall Dark and Handsome repeated.

            “I’m Dean,” said Dean.

            “Castiel.” Tall Dark and Handsome made some attempt at a smile.  It looked practiced.

            “So, um, Castiel.  Where’re you from?”

            “The School.”

            “Which is called…?”  Dean prompted.

            “Nothing. Just ‘the School’. I don’t know where it is. Not so far away I suppose. A day’s drive.”

            “And before that?”  He hoped he wasn’t being nosy.

            “I don’t know.  I’ve been at the school since I was very young.  I don’t remember the time before.”

            “I’m…sorry.” It was all Dean could say. Other people’s misfortunes always made him uncomfortable. 

            “It’s alright.  It wasn’t a terrible place. Anyway, I’d rather not talk about myself.”

            “Alright. I can respect that. I’m from here. Just a few miles out in the shitty part of town.  My foster dad runs an auto repair place by our house. ”

            “Ah.” Castiel nodded. There was something childish in his eyes, as if _auto repair place_ was some foreign land he had heard of but never seen, except in pictures. “You said foster father? Do you have any other family?”

            Dean figured he knew where this was going.  Castiel wanted to know about his parents. He dodged that answer. “It’s just me, Bobby–my foster dad-his wife Jody, and Sammy.  Sam. He’s my brother.”

            “You have a brother?  Does he also go here?”

            “No. Sammy’s smart, he got a pass to go out of state.  He’s at Stanford now, in California.”

            “You must be proud.”

            “Yeah.” _And jealous._   But Dean didn’t say that.

            Without really thinking, Dean let his hand brush against Castiel’s. Just a brush of the fingers, the tiniest gesture of affection.  It was almost nothing.  Almost.

            “Hey!” Castiel moved as if a powerful electric shock had just passed through him.  “What are you doing?”

            “I just-“  Dean tried to explain it was only an accident.

            “Do you know what you _just_ almost did? Do you know what could happen if somebody saw?  If somebody reported us?” Castiel’s cheeks were flushed and his aspect darkened.

            “For what?  For walking? Come on man, that’s still legal!”

            “For _touching_. Do you know what I am? What _you_ are?  There are implications, Dean! There’s only one reason an- someone like you would touch someone like me and I won’t risk it! I won’t go back to the School for this!”

            By this time Dean had put some steps between Castiel and himself. He didn’t understand why the kid was freaking out like this over a little touch.  It was nothing.

            “Calm down, Jesus!  Do you guys PMS or something?  I fucking touched you, chill out.  I have a-someone already, okay?”

            But it evidently wasn’t okay.

            “I’ll go to the pharmacy another day.  Goodbye, Dean.” 

            Castiel turned on his heel and marched back toward the campus leaving Dean dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

            “Fucking idiot.”  Dean mumbled to himself.  Benny was right. They only thought about one thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback! Honestly criticism is the greatest compliment a writer can get and I know I need improvement!


End file.
